Nobody's Daughter
by MorphineSun
Summary: A troubled 17 year old girl who sings the blues, plagued by the recent death of her parents, moves to Delaware to live with her stuffy grandfather at his boy's prep school. Little does she know, during the course of a few months, she would be touched by the lives of seven boys as they form delicate bonds with each other and change their lives forever.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Pat on the back to myself for finally finding the motivation to write this. Keep in mind this is only the introductory chapter, so don't be super disappointed if there's no DPS action yet. And yes, I will also clarify that Francis is Mr. Nolan's granddaughter. So enjoy, review, whatever. And I will only say this once... IdonotownDeadPoetsSociety.  
**

For the last time in Francis Nolan's 17 years of living, she sat at the vanity set in her small, almost decaying room. The walls, once painted the color of pink frosting, now were faded into a color almost as gloomy as the grey skies outside her window. Her bed was stripped, and her soft red gingham sheets were folded neatly atop of her small twin bed. Other than her bed and vanity set, the only piece of décor or furniture of any sort was her wooden dresser, that had recently been gutted of the most important things it contained.

Francis had been instructed to only bring the things that were the most important to her. Everything else was to be sold, thrown away, or left behind. Not that she minded. She didn't want to take many memories of this cruel place with her, anyway.

As she sat at her vanity set, she looked at her reflection in the oval mirror. Her hair was still contained in her pin curl clips from the night before. One by one, she delicately took these clips out of her honey blonde hair and placed them into a small, wooden box. Next to the wooden box was another box, this one being plastic and mint green. Inside the plastic box, Francis' makeup collection resided. It wasn't a bountiful assortment. Some mascara, a few tubes of red lipstick, a small compact mirror, and a bottle of perfume. The basics.

Francis continued to strategically take out the last of the clips, letting strands of her well coiffed hair slip out of the containment of the clips. Once she removed the last of them, she closed the wooden box and reached into her plastic one and extracted her mascara. She took her time pulling out her lashes, letting the dark substance brighten her cold, grey eyes. Finishing the job, she placed the mascara back into the box and replaced it with a tube of the brightest red lipstick she owned. She applied it generously, trying to cover up her quivering lips the best she could.

When at last she was satisfied with her appearance, she took the two boxes off the vanity set and placed them inside one of the two large suitcases that where placed next to her bed. The first suitcase of the two contained possessions such as clothing and the like, an the second one contained her records and record player, as well as a few other personal items she just couldn't let go of. Next to these suitcases was her acoustic guitar, carefully nestled into it's case.

If there had been one thing that held Francis together throughout her short life so far, it would have been music. Aside from her mother, it had been the only guiding voice during her wicked childhood. After she had spent days and nights in silent agony, her only relief was to bury herself in a sonic world. Her favorites were the blues singers who sung jazz, like Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald, as well as the men who strummed solemnly on their guitars, crooning of hard days and lost loves.

As Francis secured her bags for the last time, she took a shaky breath and reached underneath her bed. She pulled out a shoe box, which contained white mary jane pumps she had never worn before. She received them as a gift from her mother for her birthday last December, but had been unable to bring herself to wear them, in fear of damaging their immaculate surface. Now it was late July, and she was finally taking them out of the box.

Slipping the shoes on, she felt a chill go up the back of her spine. Breathing heavily, she buckled them and stood up. They matched her black dress with pink floral decal surprisingly well. Francis examined her perfectly put together form one last time, and began to collect her suitcases off the ground.

After she put her guitar case over her back and gathered her suitcases, she began to approach her door. Before she was about to exit, she took one last look into the only room she had ever known. Her whole life story was in here, and it felt strange to be leaving. It felt like there was a ghost of her in here somewhere, perhaps hiding in her closet, waiting to continue living the life Francis would leave behind.

Taking one last quivering breath, she turned away from the sad pink room and moved down the hallway. She did not bother to look into any other room of the house. There was no need. Each area of the small house, much like her room, was haunted by the past. Something that Francis tried to avoid at all costs. Although it was the only home she ever knew, it almost felt more like a nightmare.

Furniture still clung to barren areas of the rooms she passed by on her way out. They looked ghastly, and she felt sorry for the people who would move in next. The people who would use this furniture, thinking it a blessing to have a move-in residence. They would never know the stories these walls could tell.

However, Francis did make one stop in one of the rooms as she made her way to exit. She moved across the living room, making her way to the kitchen. All the electricity and appliances had been shut off, and the light coming in the large window above the sink was pale and dim. The view, however, was what Francis had come to see.

The kitchen window was the only window in the house that did not have a direct view of the towering pine trees outside the house. Instead, the landscape outside the window was a breathtaking scene of the small lake the house rested upon. Lake Dawn, it was called.

Francis did not know why she brought herself to the window. The lake, while beautiful, was also ominous. It had been that way ever sense she could remember. The cold, dark waters held terrifying creatures when she was a little girl. Now, it still held the remains of terrifying creatures, but they where no longer products of her imagination.

Holding back tears, Francis backed away from the window. She could no longer look at Lake Dawn. Lake Dawn, the place her mother was stripped from her, and the place where her father had finally gotten rid of his own cowardly, wretched soul.

Francis checked her small watch, and realized that her ride would be pulling up the long, dirt driveway any moment now. She was eastern bound, summoned by the only person who could take custody of her during her final months of being 17. Her stuffy grandfather, who had shipped her out to Middletown, Delaware for as many Christmases as she could remember. Now, this small New England town would have to be her makeshift home until she could finally work her way into the world.

Francis made her way to the door, crossing the living room once again. She looked across the wasteland of a house one last time. She faltered, but eventually she turned her head away from the desolate scene and opened the door.

As she stepped outside, she was greeted with a familiar breath of thick and moist air. Fog hung over and around the pines surrounding the small house, which toward over the it like menacing giants. Washington, she had to admit, was a gorgeous place, when she wasn't thinking of all the ways it had slowly killed, literally, everyone in her family except herself. She was lucky she managed to escape in one piece.

Standing on the small wooden porch, Francis checked her watch once again. It was 11:32. She had expected her ride, Mr. Southernland, to arrive any moment. He was the only person for miles who agreed to take her to Port Angeles, the city about a 15 minute drive north from Lake Dawn where she was to catch her train heading east.

Moments later, Francis heard the unmistakable sound of wheels turning against the damp gravel.

Mr. Southernland slowly pulled his truck up the drive and stopped the vehicle. As Francis began to make her way towards the truck, he hopped out of the drivers seat and came running towards Francis.

"Now wait just a moment, young lady," he exclaimed with a slight smirk. "If you think I'd let you carry all of this heavy luggage through the dirt, I'd be a little disappointed in you."

Francis, although appreciative of the gesture, wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "Well Mr. Southernland, no need for that. I'd be glad if you took them. I have enough lugging them around ahead of me."

He chuckled and gathered her belongings. "Is this all you're taking with you?" he asked, almost in disbelief.

"Yeah, I travel light. Besides, I don't really want many souvenirs from this place, anyway."

Mr. Southernland nodded, and his expression turned sober as he made his way to the truck and placed the luggage in the back. He opened the door for Francis, and gestured for her to enter.

Francis took one last look at the house she was leaving behind. Ever since she was little, she had been dreaming of this moment. The moment when she would finally get to leave this constricting world of rural Washington and experience the world. But never had she expected it to happen like this, for the ending of this chapter of her life to feel so empty and weak. She thought her exit would be one of triumph, and not of sorrow.

Mr. Southernland and Francis rode together in silence for the first half of the drive. Finally, Francis spoke up.

"So are you going to miss me, Mr. Southernland? You know, with me always playing my guitar in the row boat in the middle of the lake too loud... and me always setting off fireworks in the summer..." She gave him a weak smile.

"Oh, darling, you bet I'll miss you. Listen…" he said, his voice beginning to trail off uncertainly. "I-I don't… I'm really sorry about what happened to your parents. I just can't even imagine… but you'll be taken good care of out there in Delaware, I'm sure."

Francis scowled a bit. "I believe you've made a small mistake there, Mr. Southernland. You shouldn't be concerned about my _parents_, plural, but rather my _parent_. I could care less about my father. He can rot in hell."

Both passengers of the car were silent as Port Angeles slowly began to gather around them. Mr. Southerland took a right turn towards the train station, and nervously began to reply.

"I'm sorry, darling. I really am. I wish there was something I could have done. But some days, the best we can do is try to hang on to what we have."

"Which would be my music, I suppose, and my pin curl clips," Francis retorted bitterly. She continued on as they pulled up towards the train station. "Now, Mr. Southernland, I'd hate to leave you with any bad feelings. Just know I'm still upset, naturally. But I do appreciate all you've done for me, and being a part of my childhood."

He nodded and gave her a sad smile. "Don't you worry about it for a minute. Here, let me get your bags."

As he unloaded the luggage, they exchanged a brief hug.

"Now, when you become a famous singer one day, you write, okay? Don't you forget about it."

Francis nodded. "Don't worry, sir. I promise. I'll send you a signed vinyl, too!" she exclaimed, as she made her way to the station. She winked and waved one last time, and he returned the gesture.

Eventually, she found her way onto the train car. She sat next to the window, watching the fog crawl across the emerald landscape. She thought of Delaware, and how different her life was about to become. As the train shuttered forward, she watched the Cascade mountains begin to slip into the background.


	2. Chapter 2

Vacantly, Francis looked out the window of the train, which was ever barreling forward. The scenery had evolved and changed during the course of her trip, from the pines and mountains, to vast stretching plains, and a rather average looking middle America. Finally, she was fast approaching the northern section of Delaware.

The late July, nearly August, day was cloudy, and looked as though it was on the verge of raining. This weather was nothing new to her. During her entire life, she jokingly estimated about a only a year or two of it total had seen the sun. She cast her gaze down to her arms, which where as pale as milk.

She had hated this place. Years and years of visiting her grandfather. All the buildings were brick and regal looking, and everything smelled of snob to her. It was nearly the polar opposite of Port Angeles, which was overflowing with wood and trees and people who'd been driven insane by the grey skies.

Minutes later, Francis' train slowly pulled to a stop at the station. She was expecting one of grandfather's employees to pick her up, although she had not expected him to be waiting for her the second she stepped off the platform.

The man waiting was stern looking and unsmiling. His arms were folded deliberately into one another, and he looked around the surprisingly busy station. Francis slowly made her way towards him, her luggage awkwardly in tow.

Finally, the man caught her eyes as she approached him. "And would you be Miss. Francis Nolan?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, and replied. "Yeah, unfortunately. Are you here to cast me away to the land of prep school males?"

The man did not smile, nor change his serious manner in the slightest. "Very funny Miss. Nolan. If you mean that I am here to escort you to your new quarters at Welton, then you would be correct. Now come along, your grandfather is waiting for you. My name is Dr. Hagar."

"Really? The geezer's actually waiting for me, huh?" Francis said, and followed him to his car. He did not respond, and he took her luggage and put them in the trunk, similar to what Mr. Southernland had done just three days ago. Only three days ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

The air was thick and muggy, and Francis stood with her arms crossed as she waited for Dr. Hagar to finish placing her items carefully in the trunk of the small, average looking car. Finally, he finished, and he opened the back door, gesturing for her to get in.

"What," she said, "I don't get front seat privileges?"

Dr. Hagar gave her another disapproving look. "Miss. Nolan, please understand that your attitude is not appreciate and will, for future reference, not be tolerated at Welton. But it is not my duty to correct your behavior. I will leave that to your grandfather for now."

Francis said nothing but scoffed as she slid her way into the backseat. Dr. Hagar closed the door behind her and proceeded to enter and start the car. As he made his way towards the academy, it began to rain. Soft at first, but evolving into a forceful downpour. The car remained silent besides the pounding of rain until the both of them reached Welton.

After the car had been stopped, and the luggage had hastily been carried in through the rain, Francis stood alone and wet inside the school. Dr. Hagar had told Francis of her grandfather's location, and left her so he could attend to his own affairs. Francis had been to Welton many times, and knew the school well enough to navigate it on her own.

As she made her way down the halls, she listened to her footsteps creak against the wooden floor boards. The school was deserted, for the most part, aside from a few boys and teachers here and there that had stayed for summer school sessions.

Francis made her way to a wooden stair well that led upstairs to her grandfather's office. Sighing, she hoisted her suitcases up and gingerly went up the stairs sideways. Aside from getting into fights with all the children who gave her trouble at school, Francis, living in a logging town her whole life, had been used to manual labor of all different sorts. Her body was stronger and more capable than one may guess upon first glance.

Reaching the top, she put her luggage down and slowly made her way to the office. She took a deep breath, and approached the slightly opened door. Her grandfather, lost in his paper work, looked up at the gradual opening of the door.

"Francis," he said, taking his reading glasses off and placing them on the desk. He did not change his facial expression, and his eyes watched Francis as though he was still reading paper work. "Why don't you take a seat."

"You don't need to tell me twice, gramps." She said as she sat down in the chair. She felt like one of his students, being brought in for a lecture. She folded his arms, and waited for him to continue.

For a moment, all Mr. Nolan did was fidget with his glasses. He took a deliberate breath, and began to speak. "Francis, I understand that we are not meeting under fortunate circumstances. How-"

Francis cut him off with a scoff. Mr. Nolan shot her a stern look, and continued speaking.

"_However_, now that you are under my custody, you are expected to live under my rules and regulations. You are to attend Welton as student for your final year of high school. Given your past education, it may be quite challenging for you. Nonetheless, you shall still make an attempt to pass your classes."

Francis sat, with one eyebrow slightly raised, as she digested this. Mr. Nolan cleared his throat and continued.

"Seeing as you are my granddaughter, your life from the other students here will be significantly different. You will be living in the guest room down the hall, where you normally stay during your visits. While you live here, you may leave the campus whenever you please, as long as you have my permission. Similar to any other common household rules."

"I wouldn't necessarily consider my previous residency a 'common household'" Francis spat, cocking her head a little to the side.

"Never mind that for now, Francis. This might be your chance to establish some normalcy and discipline into your life. You are being given a great deal of privileges here, Francis. I advise you not to abuse or take advantage of them."

"Yeah, I certainly would consider this hell-sent situation a privilege. Is there anything else you'd like to say while I'm still being talked to like one of your students under a lecture?" Francis looked at him steadfast, watching his face.

"Do not talk to me like that, Francis. I realize this situation is difficult, but there is nothing more that can be done about the past at this point. Now, why don't you go to the room and get settled. You know where everything is."

Francis unfolded her arms and stood up. "I would be glad," she said bitterly as she collected her luggage once again. As she began to make her way to the door, Mr. Nolan called out to her once again.

"One more thing, Francis," he said. Francis craned her neck around and met his eyes. "I would also advise against getting too involved in the lives of the students once the school year begins. I wouldn't want you to be an influence on their studies or behavior."

"Yeah, fat chance. You expect me live in near solitude for the next year?" Francis exclaimed.

"No, not precisely. I am not discouraging you from making friends. Just try to avoid meddling with them too much. You know how boys are."

Francis rolled her eyes and proceeded to leave his office. Mr. Nolan put his spectacles back on and began reading once again. "Dinner is at 6:30, Francis. Do not miss it." he said from behind a document.

Francis gave no acknowledgement of the statement and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. She made her way down a long and empty hallway until she reached the guest room. Whenever Francis would come to visit, she stayed in this particular room, which was at the opposite end of the vast hallway as her grandfather's quarters.

The room itself was quite a decent size, including it's own small bathroom. There was a closet right by the door, and Francis took off her guitar case and rested it against the two folding doors. In the main part of the room, there was a small bay window in the center, overlooking a lovely view of the lake as well as the grassy portion of land in front of it. To the right of the window, there was a full bed, which had sheets and a comforter already folded on top of it. To the left, there was a small desk with a lamp.

Francis then put her suitcases down, making her way to the bathroom, which was joined with the room and right across from the closet. She examined herself in the mirror, noticing how the rain had managed to flatten her strategically manipulated wavy hair. She had been somewhat negligent of her appearance over the duration of the train ride, much to her displeasure.

She sighed, exited the bathroom, and decided to begin placing her possessions throughout the room. She opened the suitcase that contained her record player, and sat it on the bay window. She looked over it, making sure that the days of travel had not damaged it. She did the same to her records, inspecting each of them as she stacked them next to the record player.

Eventually, with all her belongings in their rightful new places, she looked at her watch. It was only 6:02, but she didn't really feel like doing anything. She felt extraordinarily tired, and sat on the freshly made bed. Taking in a slow and long breath, she stood up and took a record from the top of the pile. It was _Lady Sings the Blues_ by Billie Holiday, and Francis secured it in the record player. Watching it spin, she waited for title track to fill the speakers.

When the sound spread itself thought the room, Francis took a few steps back and sat back on the bed again. She slowly reclined backwards, resting her head on the pillow. For now, she felt comfort, or at least the closest thing to it she had felt in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

A week and a half or so had gone by and still Francis had refused to leave her room for anything other than eating meals. She spent most of her time sleeping a great deal, fiddling around with her music, and spending unnecessary amounts of time in front of the mirror. Not much more different than her life in Washington, actually. The only difference was her surroundings, obviously, and the fact that when she wanted to be left alone, she actually was.

However, it dawned on her that sitting in her room all the time wasn't going to be as productive as she initially thought. Sure, she was making a lot of progress with writing songs, and she had gotten her eyebrows to perfection. But she was lacking significantly, and she could feel it.

She sighed as she looked wistfully out the window. It was about noon, and the sun was perched above the vibrant trees that, to her surprise, had already reached their peaks for the year and were slowly beginning to change color. She wasn't really accustomed to fall foliage, seeing how she had spent most of her life hidden underneath pine trees.

The lake beyond the small grassy field sparkled with golden reflections as the sun cast down it's rays. The small ripples on the water, and the light swaying of the leaves suggested a faint breeze. Francis figured that this wouldn't really be a good day to sit inside and sing the blues, anyway.

She reached inside her closet and slipped on her black mary janes rather than her white ones. Even though she had worn the latter the entire way out to Delaware, she was still wary of harming them in any way. Tucking her lofty blue blouse inside her pleated skirt, she looked to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She decided she looked good enough. It wasn't like she was planning on seeing anyone, anyway.

Just before she was to open the door, Francis hesitated and looked behind her. Her guitar was still propped against her window sill where she had left it from the day before. She stood in the door way for a moment before deciding to bring it with her. After all, once Francis had a melody in her head, it was hard to remember it if she didn't play it right away. And she never knew when a melody might present itself, similar to how a poet never knew when inspiration would hit them.

Securing her guitar strap across her shoulders, she made her way down the vacant hallway. She passed by her grandfather's office, the door slightly ajar, attempting to be as quiet as she could. But it was of no use, and the clicking of her shoe's along with the creaking of the floor gave her away.

"Going somewhere, Francis?" She heard a cold voice say from behind the oak door.

She hesitated, and then replied. "Yeah, I figured I'd take a look around outside. I've never seen it in the summer." She opened the door a slight bit more, and looked tentatively inside.

"I see." Mr. Nolan said, still with a steely expression. "Well, this might be good for you. Get some fresh air. You've been stuck inside far too much, anyway. Go along now. And make sure you still return in time for lunch."

Francis nodded, and continued to make her way outside.

Once she was out in the open, she felt the warm sun radiate against her face. It was relatively hot outside, and the breeze felt welcome against her pale skin. Unsure of her surroundings, she decided to go straight and down towards the lake.

She walked out on the small dock, and stood for a moment before sitting down. She un-strapped her shoes, and placed her feet in the water, letting the miniscule waves lap at her ankles. Francis took her guitar off her back and placed it softly beside her.

She thought about how different this lake was from Lake Dawn. Just the general feel of it, how this lake etched itself elegantly into the distance colliding with the woods here and there. Lake Dawn was just one small mass, hidden inside the pines and thick fog, much like many aspects of her life…

Francis bristled for a moment, as she felt the presence of something behind her. She turned her head around, taking one foot out of the water and setting it on the dock. Towards the school, she could see the figures of about four young men slowly making their way across the grass, each walking at a different pace, but seemingly all of them were heading to the school's parking lot.

Idly, she watched them as they sauntered their way across the grass, each of them holding a few books in their hands. She figured these must be the summer school kids, making their way home after whatever class they were taking.

One of the boys at the end stopped, however, and looked in the direction of Francis. Francis, never fearing people, made no attempt to look away or pretend that she wasn't watching them. She raised an eyebrow, as she waited for the figure to move.

After a few moment of standing there and looking around, the person walked tentatively towards Francis. She kept her facial expression as he approached her, his arms cradling a thick book.

He was close enough so that she could make out his features. He wore slacks and a white button up shirt, paired with a red and navy striped tie. An evenly parted array of dark hair covered his scalp, and in his free hand he carried a pair of glasses.

Francis emitted a curious and enigmatic smile as she watched the stranger approach her. When he was a few feet away from her, she spoke up in an unfaltering voice.

"Well, what have we here? A visitor? Don't be shy, take a seat."

He blushed a little and followed her directions. He cleared his voice and began to speak. "I'm terribly sorry if I interrupted anything. Uh, I was just walking out of class and I saw someone sitting on the dock. I usually don't see anyone here, especially not… you know, girls."

Francis nodded and took her other foot out of the water. She folder her legs and faced the boy. "That's interesting. I'm assuming a summer school class, correct? You look awfully smart for someone going to summer school."

He nodded and let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, my father wants me to take an extra chemistry class. Just to get ahead and whatnot. I don't really need to, but… I usually just do as he says. Anyway, my name is Neil. Neil Perry."

"And my name is Francis. Francis Nolan. Yes, before you ask, I am related to the old stubborn cuss in control of this establishment."

Neil let out a short spurt of laughter. "Really?" he exclaimed. "That's interesting indeed. So why exactly are you here then?"

Francis' cocky smile wavered slightly at the question. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to tell her life story to this near stranger. She broke eye contact, and looked out at the lake as she replied. "It's a terribly long story. I'm sure you aren't in the mood to hear it, and I certainly am not in the mood to tell it. Maybe another time. I'm sure we'll meet again."

Neil nodded, not sure how to go about his next words. "What exactly do you mean, 'we'll meet again'?"

"Oh, well, I guess long story short, I'll be living and attending school here" Francis said nonchalantly as she trailed her fingers against the worn wood of the dock.

Neil looked at her, obviously puzzled. "Now I really don't understand where you're coming from," he said laughing a little. "Please, explain."

Francis looked at him slyly. "But I just said that tale was for another day," she said, letting out an airy laugh. "But I will tell you this much. Nolan is my grandfather, and he has had custody over me for the last… Oh, I guess about a month now… anyway, I have to not only live here, but go to school here. If that's not bad enough, I'm actually expected to pass my classes." She rolled her eyes, and maintained a smirk.

"Oh," Neil said, casting his eyes down for a moment. "Wow, I can't believe there's actually going to be a girl here."

"Don't treat it like you're going to have an elephant attending classes, either." Francis said, refusing to let up eye contact.

Neil, slightly embarrassed over his remark, began speaking again. "Well, I didn't mean it like that… you surely can see where I'm coming from, right?"

Francis nodded, and he continued. "Well, uh, my father should be here any moment now. I'm surprised he hasn't come by now, actually. Anyway, if you want, you can come see me when school starts. I think you'd like to meet some of my friends. And perhaps tell me that story of yours."

Neil, collecting his belongings, began to stand up and dusted off his pants. He stuck out his hand, for a still seated Francis to shake. She didn't return the gesture, and pointed subtly behind him where a car was waiting in the parking lot.

"I think you better go. I'll catch you later, Neil Perry," she said, casually reclining on the dock and closing her eyes. Her blonde hair spilled out from behind her, catching the mid-afternoon sun brilliantly.

"Okay, uh, goodbye then." Neil backed away, slowly at first, catching a final glimpse of the feminine figure sprawled out across the dock. He turned around, and trotted to the car impatiently sitting in the parking lot.

As he left, Francis' smile that she had maintained during the brief meeting with Neil slowly began to fade. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that she was fast approaching the school year. The mere thought of it exhausted her, and closed her eyes tighter and tried to block out the thought.

One of Francis' greatest concerns about the new school year approaching was how to handle her new social situation. Being in a school full of boys didn't bother her personally, but she knew that it was inevitable for her fellow peers to gain interest in her. But she was afraid of this for different reasons. Not because she'd have to deal with hormonal teenage boys, but because she'd have to eventually tell at least a few of them about her past. Especially Neil, now that she had already talked with him. But for now, she knew that sitting in fear would do her no good.

She sat up, taking her guitar, and began to sing and strum away her troubles. It was an age old coping mechanism for her. It had worked as long as she could remember, and as she felt her feet in the cool water, she sent her woes across the lake. Waiting, hoping, and trying to forget all at once.


	4. Chapter 4

Francis had spent the last days of her summer in antagonizing solitude. She spent her days lazily meandering through the woods or by the lake, singing to herself in her room, all the while keeping perfectly to herself. Only during her meals did she ever exchange words with her grandfather, and even then the conversation was kept polite and innocent. Francis noted how out of character that was for her. Usually, she despised pleasant small talk. But in this instance, she wanted to at least try to be affable. She figured it would make the next year or so easier for the both of them.

But it was just a matter of time before Francis' spark of misbehavior would be back. It always came back, no matter how many times she tried to quiet the flames. It reminded her of her conversation with Mr. Southernland the day of her departure, when she brought up her habit of setting off all the fireworks she could get her hands on. It was a liberating act, watching something go off with such force and separate itself into a dazzling display.

However, this spark was not present the morning of her first official day at Welton.

Francis emerged from her bed just as the sunlight was beginning to stream through her bay window. She slowly made her way to the bathroom, as she patted down the mass of pin curl clips stuck over nearly the entire surface of her skull. She sighed as she propped herself against the ledge in the bathroom, right over the sink.

As she began to carefully and deliberately remove the clips, she felt slightly overwhelmed with the notion of having to attend the customary beginning of the school year speech, which was given to anyone attending the school, as well as the parents of the students. She didn't really care about the event itself. No, she could easily block it out. But the thought that frightened her the most was the fact that this marked the end. The end of her Washington existence. Of course, technically it had ended in July, but it didn't feel like it. To Francis, the last few months had been a very strange transition period. Like she was stuck in a waiting room with no chance of escape, and all she could do was read magazines and pretend that nothing would ever come out of it.

But something always had to give, and now Francis felt herself being presented with a sense of dread and uncertainty. So as Francis gently worked the snarls out of her glossy hair, generously smeared cherry-red lipstick on her lips, and as she blackened her fair eyelashes, she tried to think of a way to handle herself for the rest of the year. And, not to her surprise at all, she came up with nothing. Planning, she discovered from experience, never really got her anywhere in life.

Leaving the bathroom, Francis looked inside her closet. She had never been given a uniform, nor was she expected to wear one. As she was the only female in attendance, her grandfather figured it was useless to get uniforms made and tailored for her. Especially if she would only need them for one school year. Of course, Francis didn't mind this at all. Freedom over her appearance had always been one of Francis' favorite things in life. She had found solace in looking as immaculate as she could.

Somewhat hastily, she pulled out an above the knee black dress with a white peter pan collar. As she slipped it over head, she wondered when she'd meet up with the Neil boy again. To be frank, since their initial encounter, Francis had hardly thought of him at all. He didn't really leave a very remarkable impression on her, but she didn't mind. As long as she could manage to make a few friends, she figured she could hold up.

Afterwards, as Francis finished buckling up her shoes, she took a deep and shaky breath. She put her head in-between her knees and wrapped her arms around her head as she sat on her bed. Breathing at an unsteady pace, she tried to organize her thoughts. She usually didn't get this anxious over things. But as she knew, tormenting yourself over unchangeable matters never does any good. So, like she had done for so many other things in the past, she bit down on the inside of her cheek and stood up.

Looking out the window, even the back lawn was beginning to fill with students of all ages, clamoring over each other at a surprisingly civilized rate. Handshake after handshake after handshake. The sight nauseated her all over again. She had watched over this vacant field for months, and now it was being filled with the types of people she despised. Francis couldn't take the sight anymore, and she made her way to exit the room.

Just as she was opening her door, she heard footsteps coming down the hall towards her. It was her grandfather.

"Good morning, Francis. I just came to make sure you where ready." he said, giving a subtly disapproving look at her dress length.

"Well, I'm here." Francis said, unsure what else she could say.

"Yes, I see that. Well, why don't you walk down with me. In case you are unsure how to get there." Francis shrugged and began to follow him as they both made their way down the hallway and stairs. Mr. Nolan continued. "Afterwards, you can find a seat among your new peers, as uncomfortable as it may seem. Perhaps you can make some acquaintances. You've seemed rather lonely lately, if you don't mind me noticing." Francis tensed, but he still went on. "As much as I discourage you from having too much involvement with these boys, I'm sure it would make your life here far easier with some company other than myself."

Francis sighed heavily, and they continued walking. Neither of them spoke until they reached a large and sprawling crowd of parents and boys of all ages. Nobody really noticed Francis yet. For all they would have know, she could have been some sort of relative of someone. Mr. Nolan stopped at the entrance of the cathedral-like space.

"Alright, Francis. This is where I leave you. Good luck, and please. Stay out of trouble." He gave her one more icy look before finding his own way among the crowds.

Francis stepped inside, eyeing everyone within the vicinity. The air reeked of perfume and cologne and the overall stench of the wealthy. For whatever reason, when Francis got caught in an environment she didn't like, it always made her inner deviant flare. which wasn't necessarily for the best in some circumstances. Francis brooded, and picked a pew in the very back, which contained no one else. She sat, unimpressed, and waited for the swarms of people to take their seats.

Finally, the sound of bagpipes burst out from behind her. She turned around, attempting not to laugh at the absurdity of the sight. Four boys carried flags moped their way down the isle. She spotted Neil carrying one of the flags she didn't even bother to read. She shot him a challenging smile, and he replied with a quick glance of acknowledgment.

Moments later, after everyone had recited Welton's famed pillars, there was brief interval of silence. Francis took this opportunity with vigor, and snapped the gum she was chewing as loudly as she could. A good handful of the occupants turned around, looking for the source of the sound. Most of them drew no conclusion, but some of their eyes landed on the lone female in the back with her arms crossed. Mr. Nolan shot her a deadly glare, and she smiled smugly back. And then she closed her eyes, and waited for the gathering to be over.

After Mr. Nolan had addressed and recited some mundane information, everyone was dismissed from their seats. As herds of people filed from their seats, Francis remained seated, not wanting to mingle with anybody if she didn't have to. As she sat there, she made relentless and purposeful eye contact with nearly everyone who passed. They usually stared back at her blankly for about a half a second before their attention was drawn back to something else. Either that, or they just looked confused until the others behind them forced them to continue forward.

When at last everyone had filed out of their seats, Francis stood up and slowly meandered her way out. She debated what route she would take back to her room. She could go back her usual way, going around and out of sight of any of the students. Or, of course, she could go in pursuit of Neil. She thought she might as well make something out of the day, and she chose the latter option. She scanned the area, which was gradually emptying itself of the masses of families.

Francis casually made her way down the hallway containing the senior dorms. Neil had never given her his grade, but she managed to take a guess. As she strolled down the hallway, she collected a few glances from the students, all with mixed facial expressions. She subtly cast her gaze side to side, room to room, in search of a familiar face. Finally, she caught a glimpse of the young man she barley remembered. His face looked different then it did the day on the dock, and he was politely conversing with his roommate.

Francis stepped in the doorway and crossed her arms, clearing her throat. Neil and the other boy looked up, slightly startled.

"Oh, hey there," he said, with a pleasant smile. "I'm glad you were able to find me. Interesting introduction, by the way. You know, snapping your gum and whatnot."

Francis made her way into the room, dropping her arms at her side as she lazily made her way inside the quarters, inspecting the small space. "Yeah, that's me alright. I know how to make an introduction," she said, chuckling to herself. She brought her eyes to the other person in the room, who was organizing his things, not obviously giving away his presence. "And you are?" she said, making her way over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

She could feel his shoulder tense underneath the weight of her hand, and he brought his eyes to hers in one abrupt motion. Neil answered for him. "His name is Todd Anderson. He's new here." Francis nodded, still holding Todd's gaze. He nodded and let out a quick greeting. Francis spoke directly to him. "If you haven't guessed, I'm new here, too. Not like it wasn't completely obvious or anything." She smirked and he coyly returned the gesture. She shook his shoulder a bit before backing away towards the middle of the room again.

Just then, three more boys appeared in the doorway. As one of them began to ask Neil a few questions, he stopped and they all took notice to the female standing in the middle of the room. She raised an eyebrow at them, and they all sauntered into the room.

"Well Perry, who have you been hiding in here? Two people I've never seen before, and one of them just happens to be a gorgeous member of the opposing gender." Said one of them, with sandy hair as he approached the right of the room.

"Congratulations, you just made a lovely rhyme. If you had said it like you weren't encountering an alien, I might have mistaken it for flirting. My name is Francis. That's Todd. Todd, Neil, and I have been best friends for the last five minutes." Francis said, checking her wrist watch for added effect.

The boy nodded and laughed. "Well pardon my manners. I'm Charlie Dalton. Those two over there… Well that's Knox," he said, pointing to the boy on the left, "and that's Meeks." He said, pointing to the other on the right. They both waved and greeted her.

"Hey, were you the one who snapped their gum really loudly today? And you're Nolan's granddaughter, right?" Said Meeks, grinning curiously.

She laughed. "Yes to both questions. Jesus, it's like I pulled some wild stunt. All I did was snap my gum."

Charlie smiled at her smugly as he laid down on the bed that appeared to be Neil's. He took out a package of cigarettes.

"Hey," Francis said. "Mind if I bum one of those?" She yawned, already outstretching her hand. She bent down to level herself with Charlie's face, as he placed a cigarette in her hand. As she placed it in her mouth, he reached over with his lighter and offered to light it for her.

"Not on your life, darling" she jokingly sneered, and took the lighter out of his hands. After her cigarette was lit, she took a long and elegant looking drag before standing up and tossing the lighter back to Charlie. She faced the window as the others were talking with each other, catching up with events about the summer and such. Francis wasn't really listening, and she turned around and interrupted them.

"It's been nice meeting you all. But I think I'll get going now. I have some things I need to catch up on."

As she made her way out of the room, someone called out behind her.

"Hey, would you be interested in joining our study group later on?" Neil asked.

Francis shrugged. "Probably. I don't know, I'll think about it." Again, she turned her back as she began to exit, only to be interrupted by Neil again.

"Are you just going to saunter out with a lit cigarette in your hand?" He said, laughing.

Francis shrugged again. "I don't see why not. _Anyway_, for the last time, I'll see you all later. Whenever that may be." She took another drag for her cigarette for emphasis, and looked over the room again. The last one she made eye contact with before leaving was Todd. She sent him a reassuring glance, and tossed her blonde locks over her shoulder as she left, leaving a room full of curious spectators.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, Francis again pulled herself forcefully out of bed. Similar to the day before, she found herself strangely overcome with anxiety. Although today it felt worse. Even though yesterday had marked the mournful end, Francis knew today was it. There was no more clinging on to her solitude, and there would be no more of her goofing around by herself, freely doing what she pleased. She was actually expected to do something with herself this year.

What terrified her the most was the academic standard being held for her. Of course, Francis knew she was smart in many ways. But not by the book. At her previous school, she was expected to achieve the bare minimum. She suspected nobody would have even cared if she flunked out. Except, perhaps, her mother. What's a high school diploma to a girl in rural Washington, anyway? It was as good as nothing. So she got barely passing grades, without really paying attention to anything in class. Even she thought she didn't even really need to graduate. After all, her only long term goal in life was to be a musician. And of course, she thought, everyone knows you don't need any certifications for that.

But at Welton, it would become a totally different story. As Francis removed her pin curls once again, she contemplated how this year was going to go academically. She knew it probably wasn't going to go smoothly. She wondered if her grandfather really _was _going senile. Forcing her to attend classes at one of the most prestigious prep schools in America? With minimal previous education? Francis almost scoffed allowed at the notion. It was ridiculous. But if there was a time to prove people wrong, and have some sort of triumphant success, now would be her chance. Perhaps she would have to join the boy's study group after all.

Francis made her way to her closet, and as she opened the door, she felt like she was greeting old friends. There was something about her vanity that made her feel secure about everything in her life. Like perhaps if she looked a certain way, she could feel a certain way. It never hurt to try, she thought, as she pulled out a red and white gingham dress. She thought wistfully how much this dress resembled her old bed sheets at home as she pulled it over her head. With slight hesitation, she took her white mary janes out of the closet and slid them on. Sighing, she buckled them on her slim feet. This was it. She stood up, shakily, and glanced at her watch. She had about 25 minutes until class was to begin. So, instead of running down to find her maybe-sort of-new friends, she put on another Billie Holiday 45', sitting down on her bed with her head in her hands.

As Francis had fully expected, the day had proven to be dull, miserable, and slightly terrifying. And it had only just begun, practically. Towards the end of the school day, Francis entered what was to be her English class rather close to the start of the period. She didn't like being early to class. She saw that there was a lack of preferable seats, otherwise known as the seats in the back. So Francis grudgingly took the second seat to the far end of the room, right by the windows. She decided to save the first seat for another unfortunate soul.

She looked around the room with a purposefully blasé expression. Spotting several familiar faces, she plastered a misleadingly cocky smirk on her face. As she mouthed incomprehensible sentences to her peers, she noticed someone take the last open seat, directly in front of her. It was Todd. She took her attention off the others and sat straight forward, looking at the back of his head. She reached out and touched a few strands of hair. Todd jerked his head around, his eyes like horrified saucers.

"You know," Francis said, leaning forward, "you're hair's kind of like a fox's. You ever think about that? It's not exactly red, but it's not brown or blonde or anything. It's this weird fox kind of color." Francis tilted her head a bit to the side, and reached her arm to his head once again.

Todd blushed, and gently pushed her approaching arm away from his head. "Um, I've really never thought about that before." He said, letting out a small spurt of nervous laughter. He cast his eyes down, and hesitated for a moment before turning around again.

As class began, Francis noticed the teacher making his way through the classroom. By Welton standards, he was relatively young. He had a shock of wispy and thin hair, and even though he hadn't even looked at anyone, Francis could feel his eyes had a certain kind of spark. Francis could pick up on people's personas quickly. That was the sort of thing Francis was good at.

Moments later, the entire class was being led down the creaky wooden hallways of Welton. They came to the open room where the trophies and pictures of past graduates were kept. Francis was brought to the unsettling conclusion that if she looked at the pictures long enough, she might be able to spot her father in one of them. Tall, blonde, chiseled facial structure, and the same cold and steely grey eyes as herself and her grandfather. He had attended Welton before he went off the deep end. She pushed the thought out of her mind as she attempted to listen to the strangely intriguing discussion being led by the man, or Mr. Keating, as he had introduced himself.

As he gave his animated speech, Francis looked about the room. She wondered how many of these boys Mr. Keating was talking about had walked through these halls. She wondered if her father's feet had once stood in the spot she was standing. She could hear the breathing of everyone in the room during the brief pauses of talking. Then, all of sudden, they were all being urged to lean into the pictures. Francis did so, and looked at the bleak faces of the students. Their faces all blended into each other's, as Francis tried to avoid looking for her father's.

"Carpe diem, seize the day, children, Make your lives extraordinary…" Mr. Keating hissed, in a passionate and hushed tone. Francis didn't need to be told twice. She understood. Perhaps, she thought, this year wouldn't be so bad if she had at least this class to look forward to.

Later that evening, the boys gathered in the dinning hall. They exchanged regular conversation for a moment, before Charlie brought up the inevitable topic of Francis.

"Hey," he said, looking around the room. "Do you guys think Francis is going to come down here and sit with us? Or do you think she gets special eating privileges or something?"

Knox scoffed. "I wouldn't get your hopes up, Charlie. She only met us for about five minutes."

"Yeah, but have you seen her talking to anyone else around here? I mean, our chances of seeing her are probably better than anyone else's."

Everyone shrugged in mild agreement, and Cameron looked up. "I don't think her not sitting with us would be too much of a tragedy. She seems like trouble, I can just tell. I mean, she just kind of saunters around here like she owns the place."

"Yeah, and is that a bad thing?" Charlie spat back. "I mean, any girl around here would be nice. But it's an added bonus that she's not a ditz or anything."

A few people at the table let out a mocking laugh. "Oh right," said Knox, "like you don't go for girls who are ditzy _all the time, _Charlie."

"Not like he's successful, anyway." Meeks said from across the table, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he inspected his unimpressive meal. More collective laughs.

"Well you got to give me credit for trying." Charlie said, both jokingly and seriously, leaning back in his chair.

Just then, Francis walked through to the center of the dinning hall. She exchanged a glance with her grandfather as she proceeded to make her way towards where the other students were eating. She spotted her new acquaintances at a table, and waltzed her way over.

Not even bothering to ask, Francis slid herself into an empty seat. "Seeing how you guys are the only people I've talked to so far, I'm sitting with you all."

Charlie looked at Knox with a self-assured grin. No one spoke any words of protest.

"Actually," Meeks said, pleasantly, "we were just talking about you."

Francis raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Were you now?"

"Yeah, just about how nice it was to have a girl here and all that. That would make two new students, which is rather refreshing, if I do say so myself." Meeks said, displaying his expertise on small talk.

"Yeah, me and Todd both. Hey, doesn't Todd's hair look like a fox's?" Francis said, holding the gaze of a clearly uncomfortable Todd.

There were brief comments of agreement, and Meeks continued with his introductory talk. "So, speaking of which, what brings you to Welton?" Meeks had a smile on his face that suggested that he was used to these kinds of pleasantries.

Francis hesitated at the question, as her heart beat began to flutter nervously. She bounced her fork up and down in her hand. After a slight pause, Francis blurted out her response in a surprisingly nonchalant manner.

"My parents are dead," She said, surprised that she had gotten the nerve to say it so easily. It did not feel easy, however, now that the words were out. A thick silence laid over for the table for a moment, Meeks' smile dissolving.

"Oh, I'm sorry." was all he managed to say.

The others followed suit, each saying uncomfortable apologies.

"Oh, come on," Francis said, in a mockingly bitter tone. "It's none of your faults, so don't apologize." No one said anything, so Francis continued on, trying desperately to change the subject. "Hey, is there a record store around here?"

They nodded, and one of them, Pitts, gave a small description of it's location and inventory.

"Super. I need to stop by there soon. You know, on the day my mother died, and I guess technically my father, Billie Holiday died. July 17th." Francis said, only making things more uncomfortable. Everyone at the table shifted, unsure on how to continue.

"You know what," Francis said, beginning to stand up, "I-I should probably get going. I'll see you guys later. Are you still planning on having that study group thing? I actually kind of need to attend that. I'm completely anticipating failure unless I get some help here."

"Yeah, of course. We'd be glad to help you, Francis. You can come later tonight, if you want to." Said Neil, quite sincerely.

Francis nodded as she collected herself and prepared to leave.

"Fantastic, I'll see you all then." Francis said, her lazy blonde curls and gingham dress not matching the pained expression on her face.

They all nodded and said their goodbyes. After she had left, all of the boys glanced at each other around the table.

"I told you," Cameron said, shaking his head. "I don't see her benefiting us at all."

"Oh, just shut up," Charlie said, lightly punching his shoulder and rolling his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This story's actually going pretty well, if I do say so myself. Hopefully it will stay this way. Also, if you've been reading this without reviewing, I know you're out there somewhere.**

The following days at Welton had been a continuous struggle for Francis. Although Francis was not one to quickly give up, she was fast approaching that point. Even though school had only been in session for a few days, she, along with the rest of her classmates, were being slammed with work. It wouldn't be so bad, she pondered, if she could only understand any of it. She was really doubting her grandfather. She wondered why in his right mind he ever made her attend school here in the first place. He knew of her previous improper education. He knew that she had virtually no idea of what was going on in any of her classes. Yet he still insisted she attend classes. She would have been far better off attending the local public school, Ridgeway High.

Despite Francis' shortcomings, she pressed on, determined to at least attempt before giving up. But to be honest with herself, she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She had never been taught Latin like this before, and she had never bothered with a chemistry book this large in her entire life. Francis used the small amount of knowledge she possessed, but found herself straggling behind more than she could have imagined.

Except for English, of course. English had always been her favored subject, and she had always loved to submerge herself in poetry and the art of words. She loved the feeling of reading poetry, the way it made her mind feel sharper and more alive. She loved the almost wholesome feeling of understanding and relating to verses, and the meanings they portrayed. Mr. Keating made her time in that class all the more enjoyable. That, and having the opportunity to speak with the painfully shy Todd. For whatever reason, Francis found herself strangely fascinated with the shadowy boy, who always sat with such an uncomfortable rigidity. Like there was something cold and brittle attached to his spine.

As class let out on a particularly warm fall day, Francis searched around for Pitts, the tall boy who had informed her of a record store in town days before. She glided through the dorm rooms, asking around until she finally found him, alone in his room. He sat, hunched over his desk, fiddling with a set of wires that didn't appear to be attached to anything.

Francis cleared her throat, and he turned around, clearly surprised. "Hey," he said, suddenly dropping the wires and standing up. "Uh, do you need something?"

"Yeah." Francis said, leaning against the door frame. Her black, clingy sweater left a small space in between her petal pusher jeans, revealing a strip of nearly translucent skin. She held a pair of white cat-eye sunglasses in one hand, which limply laid at her side. "Remember a few days ago, when we were talking in the dining hall, or whatever you call it, and you told me about that one record store?"

Pitts nodded, and Francis continued. "Well, where exactly is it?"

Pitts scratched the back of his head for a moment, and then he leaned down and began searching through his desk. "Maybe it would be easier if I just wrote down some directions for you. It's really not that hard to find, but I'm kind of bad at explaining these things, and it'd be easier for you to remember." He searched for a moment more, and pulled out a pen and a small pad of paper. He scrawled for a minute or so, occasionally stopping for a second to double-check his information.

"Okay," he said, taking a breath and moving over to Francis, his hand extended with the piece of paper out in front of him. "You just kind of follow these roads… it's right downtown. You shouldn't have much trouble finding it at all. Do you have a bike or anything? It might take you a little while if you walk."

Francis hesitated for a moment. "Eh, actually, no. I don't. I didn't really think of that. Do you have one I could borrow for the afternoon?"

Pitts laughed and handed her the paper. "No, I don't, either. But some other people do. I know Neil and Knox do, but I'm not quite sure where Neil is. You could ask Knox, though. He's right down the hall over there," He said, pointing out his door and to the left.

Francis grinned and thanked Pitts.

"By the way," Pitts said, right as Francis was leaving. "What record are you going to get? Also, do you even _have _a record player?"

Francis laughed, half out of the room and into the hallway. "I'm getting a Billie Holiday record. _Last Recordings_. And yeah, I do. Since Nolan's my grandfather and all, I get special privileges. Maybe sometime you can come up and we can listen to some records." Francis said with a wink. Pitts nodded.

"Yeah, that'd be great." He said to her, as she proceeded to make her way towards Knox's room. "I'll see you later." He added, before going back to his desk.

Francis made her way down the hallway, peeking in random open doors, looking for Knox. Finally, she spotted him, also alone in his room. However, unlike Pitts, he didn't appear to be occupied with anything at all. He sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands.

"Hey," Francis called, somewhat abruptly, hoping to snap him out of whatever it was he was thinking. Knox looked up, more startled than Pitts was. Francis saw that she had his attention, and continued. "I need to borrow your bike. By the way, you seem kind of out of it. Tell me what it is you're thinking."

"Um," Knox cleared his throat, and looked up at Francis. "Well, yeah, you can borrow my bike. Here, I'll walk you out to it, and I'll explain on the way." He let out a sigh, and stood up.

He lead the way as Francis meandered behind him for a second, looking around his room for a moment, before she caught up with him and followed him out of the school. As the sun hit her face, she slipped on her sunglasses as she listened to Knox.

"I don't know Francis… Remember that girl I met at the Danbury's? Chris? Well, I just can't get her off my mind. It's driving me crazy, I tell you. I mean, there's no way I have any chance with her. She's just so amazing, though."

Francis nodded. They approached Knox's bike, and Knox unlocked it as Francis began to speak. "Well, let me tell you one thing. As a female myself, I appreciate it when guys go out of their way for me. It's assuring. Even when I'm already with someone. So my suggestion is just go for it. It can't hurt if she knows you like her. That way, she can pick if the meathead she's with is really worth it. After all, who needs a football player when you can have a dashing young scholar?" Francis laughed, as she took Knox's bike.

"Yeah, if only she thought that. Anyway, thanks for the advice. I'll think on it. Also, take care of my bike here. I kind of need this thing." Knox stood to the side as Francis perched herself on the bike.

"Don't you worry your pretty little heart anymore than you already are. I'll be back in less than an hour. Mark my word." Francis adjusted her sunglasses before ridding away. She looked like a Hollywood starlet. She tossed a wave over her shoulder and unfolded the piece of paper Pitts had given her. Knox stood back for a moment, and decided to wait under a nearby tree. It was easier to think outside, anyway, Knox thought, as he reclined into the shade.

True to her word, Francis returned less than an hour later. In fact, it had practically been a half an hour. It helped that she knew what she had been looking for. The sun was just beginning to set as she rode the shaky bike to where her and Knox had been earlier. He was still underneath the tree, looking forlorn until he heard Francis approaching him.

"What did I tell you!" She exclaimed, grinning. She had a cigarette dangling out of her mouth, and she cradled a record under her arm as she dismounted the bike. She dusted off her pants and took the cigarette from her mouth. "I may be a little irresponsible," she said, "but you always have my word." She smiled. "Have you reached a conclusion on your Chris situation yet?" She asked as they made their way back inside.

"Well, I think I'm going to do what you suggested. You know, talk to her. Although I'm not sure how yet. But I will." He smiled to himself as he kept his eyes on the floor.

"That's terrific. Good luck." She grinned up at him, and before parting ways, Knox asked her if she would be joining the study group again that evening. "You bet your life, darling. You guys are my only hope of passing. I'll see you all in a few. I have to put my things away." Knox nodded and made his way down to the recreation room.

An hour later, Francis found herself face down on her Latin homework, letting out a muffled shriek.

Meeks, sitting nearby, tried to console her. "Hey, now, this isn't so bad. Look, all you have to do for this one-"

Francis cut him off, giving him a fierce look. "I don't care. Now, I really appreciate all your help. Honestly. I mean Cameron, I wouldn't have been able to do that trig problem without you," she said, nodding towards Cameron who shrugged stubbornly in return. "But I can't do this. I really can't."

"Yeah, join the club, sweetheart," Charlie said, nonchalantly as he sat in his chair, without any work in front of him.

"Oh, no. No. I'm mentally incapable of doing this," she said, in an exasperated and overwhelmed tone, her voice faltering. "I'm done." She tossed down her pencil as she stood up abruptly.

"Where are you going?" Said Neil, hidden behind his reading glasses and a chemistry textbook.

"I'm going to go and have a little chat with my grandfather. This is absolutely ridiculous. He has to do something about this. I can't…" She searched for words, opting for another muffled scream as she covered her mouth with her hands. She stormed out of the room without another word.

"Well then. But hey, if she gets out of Latin, I'm going to try this 'confrontation' thing myself." Charlie said with a small grin, starting to stand up and leave the room.

"I wouldn't press your luck." Meeks said, shaking his head, beginning to stand up himself. The others followed, gathering their belongings.

"Hey, look, she just left all her stuff here." Neil said, looking over her Latin notes, with little doodles of heats and small gremlin-like creatures in the margins. "I think I'll take them with me and give them back to her later. This stuff will probably just get lost if no one takes it." Neil added the books and pieces of paper to his own stack, and made his way out of the door, following the others.

"Well, if you see her in her room, send her my greetings." Charlie said slyly, raising his eyebrow. Neil just rolled his eyes with a smile.

Upstairs, Francis burst into her grandfather's office with a deadly expression on her face. "I want you to do something about my classes, and I want you to do something about it _right now._" She hissed, slapping her hands on his desk.

"Francis, calm down this _instance. _What is the matter with you?" He said sternly, taking off his thick reading glasses and setting down a paper he had been reading.

"Nearly all the classes you have me in are way too hard. I have been trying, God I have been trying, to keep up with all of it. But I just can't. I come from some goddamn backwater town high school to this place, and I cannot handle this. At all. You need to do something about this!" Francis was yelling, taking deep breaths.

"You must calm down. The reason I kept you at this school is because I thought you'd be able to adapt. Believe it or not, I think of you as a very intelligent young lady. You have potential." Nolan said all of this very rigidly, trying his best to handle the situation with patience. "Now, tell me, what classes are you struggling with the most?"

"All of them!" she exclaimed, her face contorted and red. "Well, aside from English."

There was a long pause. Mr. Nolan took a deep breath before talking to Francis again, who was still leaning over his desk visibly upset. "Now, I can't do anything about this tonight. It's too late. But listen carefully," he said, looking her in the eye. "I'll think of alternative classes for you to take somehow. Either that or assign you a tutor of some sort. In the meantime, go back to your room and rest. You can take your classes off tomorrow."

Francis nodded, calming down a bit, but still sending Mr. Nolan a fierce glance. "This better get fixed," she spat as she walked out of the room. Mr. Nolan bit his tongue. After all, someone needed to be mature.

Back downstairs, Neil entered his room, as Todd sat as his desk, scribbling something on a piece of paper. Neil dropped Francis' books down on Todd's desk, right by his piece of paper. Todd looked up, startled and slightly confused.

"You want a dare, Todd?" Neil challenged, a devilish look playing across his face.

Todd swiveled around in his chair, facing Neil. "Uh, not really…"

"Well, you're going to have one. I dare you to take these books upstairs to Francis." Neil said, smiling wildly.

Todd shook his head vigorously.

Neil laughed, shaking Todd's shoulder. "Come on! You _have_ to! You know she likes you, Todd." Todd looked up, his expression changing into one of shock.

"You don't mean that, do you?" Todd asked tentatively.

Neil let out more laughter. "Well, she sure seems like it. The way she's always touching you and trying to talk to you in English."

"She does that to pretty much everyone." Todd said, although he couldn't really convince himself entirely.

"Todd," Neil said, giving him a slightly exasperated look. "Come on. Just give these books to her. You won't regret it…"

"Yeah, well, maybe I will." Todd said, still seated.

"No, you're going to do this." Neil laughed, and pulled Todd out of his seat. He placed the bundle of books in Todd's arms, and pushed him towards the door.

"Wait," Todd gasped. "In a little bit. I mean, Nolan might not be in bed yet. If I'm going to do this, I at least want to avoid running into him. Also, Hagar will be suspicious. Now's not the time."

Neil stopped, and nodded at Todd's logic. "Okay," he said. "I'll give you one hour. That's it. I swear, you're doing this. It won't even take you that long."

Todd just rolled his eyes, and sat back down.

An hour later, keeping to his word, Neil ushered Todd back to his spot by the door, The books placed awkwardly in his arms.

"Go on, Todd. This'll be good for you. Trust me." Neil said, as he gave Todd one last shove out the door. He shut the door behind him, slowly and quietly, leaving Todd in the empty and dark hallway by himself. He took a deep breath, and made his way silently to the stairwell.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yeah, I know, this is a relatively uneventful chapter. However, I felt that I needed some sort of intermission to kind of… oh, I don't know, do some explaining of sorts. Anyway, read on, enjoy, and, uh, feel free to review and stuff. **

Gingerly, Todd walked with slow steps towards the bottom of the stairwell. The entire building seemed to be vacant, however he knew that behind nearly every closed door, there were silent inhabitants. Kind of like ghosts, he thought. Ghosts that could at any moment open their doors and find him, standing in the empty hallways at Welton.

Todd could recall many times during his life in which he felt anxiety. If fact, this happened nearly every day in one way or another. However, Todd could only remember a few times in which he had felt this truly terrified. He wasn't sure exactly why, either. It's not like Francis would rude to him. If anything, it seemed like she'd be glad to see Todd. But nonetheless, he worried. Especially if it did turn out that his presence wasn't welcome, something that Todd was always in fear of. He had always felt unwanted.

Despite his fear, he knew two things for certain. One was that he knew that Neil wouldn't let him back into the room until Francis' belongings had been returned, and the other was that, in truth, he was actually looking forward to seeing Francis, and he was glad he had a legitimate excuse to be with her, if only for a moment.

As Todd began to climb the stairs, he felt his heart beat at a terribly unsteady pace. He looked up, and to his relief, the door to Mr. Nolan's office was open, and all the lights were off. Which meant he had retired to his own quarters, with little likeliness of emerging until the morning. Still, Todd was as quiet as possible, and he inched up each stair with deliberate delicacy, nearly holding his breath the entire time.

Finally, he emerged at the top of the stairs, and looked about him. The hallway branched off into two directions, one heading down a longer, wider hallway to the left, and one smaller hallway to the right. Todd was struck with more terror and indecision. The books an ever growing burden in his arms, he made a slightly hasty decision. He decided to go right, seeing as it seemed like less of an important hallway. Todd hoped with all his being he was right.

As he approached the end of the hallway, he faced a little door with a stream of dim light coming from the bottom. From inside the room, Todd could hear muffled strumming of a guitar along with the raspy voice of a male singer, as well as soft female hums that did not sound like they were coming from a record played. Todd took a deep breath, glad that he had came to the right door, but still terrified at the task ahead. It took Todd a moment before he got the nerve to knock. It was a slow, soft knock, and a few seconds later, he could hear footsteps coming towards the door. He took one last shaky breath.

The door slowly clicked open, and Francis peeked out from a small gap in the door. Her face, initially seeming shocked, soon turned into one of her smirks as she opened the door wider. For a second, Todd wondered if he had been looking at a stranger. Francis' hair, usually done in her signature curls right at her collar bones, was now completely pinned to her skull in small, meticulous circles. Her face had been cleansed of any makeup, and she stood in a light pink silk bathrobe, holding a pair of tweezers in one hand.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? Is that my stuff?" Francis said, almost whispering, curiously raising an eyebrow. Todd, unable to find words, nodded. "Well don't just stand there, you look like your arms are going to fall off. Come in for a moment, will you?" Again, unable to summon any sort of verbal communication, Todd nodded once more and followed Francis as she gestured him inside the room. He stopped for a moment, and closed the door.

As Todd approached the main area of Francis' decently sized room, she gestured again, this time signaling for him to put the stack of books on her desk. As Todd set them down, he felt a great rush of relief surge go through his small arms.

Francis looked over Todd again, and began to speak. "So, is that all you came for? To drop off my stuff? This is a pretty strange time to be dropping off books, you know. Also, please excuse my appearance. I wasn't expecting guests."

Todd let out a nervous laugh, and responded. "Well, it was Neil's idea, I guess…" And before Todd's brain could catch up with him, he mumbled out a second part. "And you still look…" He trailed off, his cheeks beginning to flush.

"Don't worry about it, kid. Hey, you know how I went to the record store today? Well, you wanna hear some songs off the record I bought? They're really good. It's Billie Holiday."

Todd shrugged. "Sure," he said, as Francis was already taking the current record off the turntable and putting it back into it's sleeve. She added it to her moderately large pile, and took a fresh looking record off the top.

As she put it on, Todd couldn't help but notice Francis' nails. They were bright cherry red, and filed to perfection. He thought it was interesting, how she tended to herself so carefully, making sure every thing was in order, from her neatly organized room all the way down to her flawless cuticles.

Before she let down the needle, she looked up at Todd, and began to offer an explanation of sorts. "Now, let me just warn you Todd, I'm about to play some seriously emotional songs. Well, at least for me. I don't know about you so much. Like, I actually felt like crying earlier because they were so good. Anyway, just so you also know, I'm not as big on jazz as you think. I'm more of a blues and folk and rock n' roll type person. But man, something about these female jazz singers just get me. But this song, it's the third to last, it's called 'It's Not For Me To Say'". Todd stood there for a moment, digesting her words, as she let down the needle.

Todd stood in the center of the room, absorbing the sound that emerged from the speakers. He felt himself begin to relax, from his buzzing mind down to his tensing fingers, at the sound of the raspy yet brilliant sounding woman. Francis lit a cigarette and began to sway on her feet a little bit.

"You ever dance, Todd?" Francis asked, already starting to make her way to Todd. He shook his head back in forth vigorously. "Oh, come on now. It's not so hard. Here-" Francis said, as she draped her arms around Todd's shoulder. One of them clung loosely to the back of his head as the other, the one with the cigarette, hung limply off of his shoulder. Francis placed her head onto his shoulder, and was silent. He could smell her hair, that held a faint fragrance of soap and perfume.

For a moment, Todd stood there stiffly, as Francis silently swayed to the music. Then, against his better judgment, Todd placed one of his hands on her upper back as the other remained to his side. He followed Francis' easy swaying motions, and listened to the song as the vinyl spun sweetly. He didn't dare say a word.

The song was relatively short, and as the next one came on, Francis still remained in his shoulder, cigarette smoke trailing up behind him, curling under his ear and neck. As the next song proceeded, still slow and sweet, Todd slowly began to notice his shoulder was becoming damp, presumably from tears. Still, Todd didn't move, and pretended not to notice. He continued to follow the gentle sway of Francis, that reminded him of the way he'd seen dancers on T.V., caught in some gentle world of their own.

After the song ended, Francis brought her head up. The next tune began, which had a slightly quicker and upbeat tempo. She wiped her eyes, which were sparkling with tears, and patted her damp rosy cheeks. Most of the moisture had been absorbed by Todd's shirt.

"Oh God," Francis said, slightly apologetically and slightly beside herself. "I'm sorry… I didn't think I'd start crying like that. Well, at least I didn't have any mascara on… your shirt would have been ruined." She let out a short, sniffly laugh, and the last song on the record finished it's final notes.

"It's alright," said Todd, slightly less nervous and uncomfortable than he had been before. "But, um, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. It's kind of funny…" she said in a voice suggesting that it wasn't, in fact, very funny at all. "That was the first time I've cried since… since my parents died." She seemed to choke on the last words as she put out her cigarette and sat down on her bed.

Todd stood, his apprehension creeping back to him with the seriousness that now filled the room. He took a deep breath, and walked over to the bed, and sat next to Francis. Quietly, Todd asked Francis a question he was surprised he had the nerve to ask.

"Um, if you don't mind me asking, how did you parents die? I mean, you've never told anyone or anything…"

Francis tensed for a moment, and started talking in a feeble and weak voice that Todd had never imagined her capable of.

"I guess this had to come up eventually… I can't hide from it forever. You see, ever since before I was born, my father was totally nuts. He fought in the war, and moved out west after his service. He had attended Welton in his youth, actually. He started off living in California, and then slowly but surely, he kept being drawn further and further into the woods of the north. Eventually, he found himself in Port Angeles, Washington, which is where I'm from. He was a logger. He met my mother at a small little diner there… she was a waitress. God, my mother was the most beautiful person you could ever dream to see. Not to sound conceited or anything, but people always tell me I'm her spitting image. I agree with them, but she was still more beautiful than me. Anyway…"

Francis trailed off for a moment, lost in some sort of memory. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, more prominently than before. She continued with a breath.

"Anyway, they fell in love for whatever reason. Looks count for something, right? And so they had me together, and just after I was born, my father really started to head off the deep end. He was a God-awful drunk. And he…"

She let out a little chocking noise, and Todd's hand involuntarily moved closer to her. She went on, in a barely audible voice.

"He'd always abuse the both of us… in more ways than one, if you know what I mean." Francis couldn't contain her sobs now, letting them out gradually and painfully. "And so as I got older, I had to start kind of fending for myself, you know? But my mother didn't knew he hurt me like that… she just knew he hit me and whatnot. And I couldn't tell her. I could tell my mother everything, but not that. I couldn't tell anyone that. Well, I guess now you. You're the first person I've told…"

She was letting out terrible sounding sobs, and Todd was taken aback briefly by this revelation. He felt horrified. Francis struggled to continue, letting out sentences in between her almost childlike cries.

"And so… and so I just kept on living. Because there was nothing I could do about any of it. I just waited, and held on to my dream of becoming a musician. You know… my mother always told me I had the best voice she'd ever heard… God, I just loved her so much… Eventually my father realized to stop… you know… when I was a certain age because he knew I would start catching on. But I remember… he… he used to call me Franny. I hate that name, _I hate it so much_."

She said the last sentence intermingled with profound hate and bitterness, almost sounding like a temper tantrum.

"But then after years of this bullshit, I come home from school one day, and… and I find out that… that my father…" she was really sobbing now, having trouble catching her breath. Todd sat there tensely, and gingerly decided to put his hand on her shoulder. He didn't say a word.

"I found out that he had taken my mother out in the row boat we had that afternoon… he said he wanted to show her the water lilies… but then he took her too far out from shore, and… and he… and he just shot her. I don't remember exactly how… And then he shot himself, the goddamn coward."

Todd sat in silence for a moment as she chocked in muffled sobs. His hand still on his shoulder, she felt Francis move towards him and collapse in his chest. He put his arm awkwardly on her back, slowly taking his other arm and fixing it on her back as well.

They sat like that for what seemed like forever. Todd silent, and Francis crying like someone had opened up a dam that had been ready to burst. Finally, when she had calmed down, Todd spoke.

"I'm terribly sorry…" Todd said lamely, struggling for words, like usual. Expect this time, he really couldn't find a way to express how he felt.

Francis shook her head. "No, no, don't be sorry. It's not your fault. It's okay… really. I kind of needed to get this out. I haven't cried since it happened. They always say crying is good for you, right?"

"Yeah, it is. Do you think you're going to be alright? Do you, uh, need anything else?" Todd asked, as Francis began to untangle herself and sit up.

"No, I'll be alright. You should go back to your room, Todd. It's late."

Todd nodded reluctantly, and stood up. Francis stood up behind him, and gave him one last bone crushing hug.

"Thanks for listening to me," she said, her voice still broken, but sounding like it was recovering. "Now you go back to your room. Tell Neil I said 'hey'". She gave a weak attempt at smile, and Todd returned it, equally as weak.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow, then." He gave a small wave, and backed out of the room and through the door. Francis followed him, and gave him a genuinely sincere, however sad, smile.

"I'll see you…" She said, closing the door behind him.

When Todd returned to his room, Neil had been lying in bed. Upon hearing the door slowly creak open, he shot up and grinned.

"So how was it? You where gone for like… I don't know a half an hour or so. You must have had some riveting conversation or something."

Todd shook his head. "I don't really know if I should talk about it right now."

"Come on!" Neil urged. "What did you guys talk about?"

Todd shook his head again, this time more frantically. "I don't think she'd want me to tell you what she said… but she did tell me about her past, I guess. I don't really want to talk about it, myself."

Neil, noticing Todd's seriousness, dropped the question. "Okay," he said, "I trust what you're saying. But you guys must have done some serious talking… I'm impressed."

Todd didn't respond, and crawled into bed. He found himself now burdened with his new knowledge. Francis seemed to transform entirely before him, from the cocky girl to someone as secretive as he felt. Slowly, though, despite his racing mind, he felt sleep pull him into loving arms, and he forgot her bleary eyed glare, for a little while, at least.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Okay, long time no update. I've been pretty busy lately, as one could assume. Anyway, I hope this story is being adored by my lovely readers, haha. Here's the next installment. Feedback is always welcome. **

The next day, Francis found herself sitting underneath the nearly bare braches of a tree, just outside her room's window and nestled in the grassy area outside the Welton dorms. It was late afternoon, and classes had not yet finished for the day. The sky was cloudless, and the air was crisp, however not quite crisp enough to dictate the use of a jacket. Not in this sun, anyway, she thought, with her sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

In her lap she held a spiral notebook, and she was blankly scribbling in it, writing her name multiple times in different styles and sketching faces in the corners. She was trying to find ways to pass the time while she had her day off. It was lovely, nonetheless, especially with it being Friday, yet it still felt a little strange. It reminded her of the summer days she had spent wandering the Welton campus by herself, drenched in sunlight and confusion.

Francis curiously awaited what her grandfather's verdict would be on her schedule. She knew it would be absolutely ridiculous to keep her in her current classes. It was a total set up for failure. It wasn't as if Francis wouldn't be able to pick it up, however it was that she felt she was miles behind everyone else. There would be no time and no means for her to catch up with her peers.

Back towards the school, a bell rung out and a few students began filing out of the large and heavy oak doors. A few of them held books or soccer balls as they made their way out into the field. Some of them glanced at her, but most did not. They seemed wrapped up in their own little worlds, finally having a temporary moment to themselves away from burden of school.

She sat there for a moment more, continuing to scrawl in her notebook, before she heard footsteps approaching close behind her. She turned around to see none other than her newly made acquaintances, with Neil holding a thin red book under his arms.

Neil smiled and spoke to her. "So how are you enjoying your day off? Must be pretty nice," he said, looking down at her notebook.

"Oh, I'm doing just peachy," Francis said in somewhat of a dry tone. She let out a little chuckle.

"Hey, how come you spell your name like that? You know, with an "I" rather than an "E". I thought that was the male spelling for it," Neil said, looking a little amused.

"Ah, I was wondering when someone would ask that. It always comes up eventually. You see it was a typo on my birth certificate. The nurses at the hospital messed up somehow. It's funny," she said, turning herself around and standing up. "All the stuff my parents had for me when I was a baby that had my name on it was spelled the female way, but when they got the birth certificate back in the mail, they saw it was spelled wrong. Apparently they got a kick out of it or something, so they never bothered changing it. It's never been an issue for me, but it's a little inconvenient at times. I don't think I'm ever going to change it at this point. I'm used to it now."

They each let out a collective chuckle at the tale and nodded. She met eyes with Todd for a second, and she noticed him freeze. She held his gaze gingerly, before looking at the others again.

Neil spoke again. "Well why don't you come with us, Francis with an "I". We're going to ask Mr. Keating about something is his yearbook."

Francis nodded, and followed them across the lawn in pursuit of the peculiar man, whom Francis felt a sense of admiration for. She couldn't fathom her grandfather approving him working here, and she figured Mr. Keating had put on some sort of a façade, or at least cleverly marketed himself.

Finally, they spotted him, moving down towards the lake. Neil called out his name a few times, to no response. He tried a different maneuver, calling out "O Captain, My Captain", as a playful attempt for a reaction. He turned around and smiled.

He greeted them, and Neil offered the yearbook to him, already opened to his picture within the pages that were barely beginning to yellow. They crouched down, and Neil questioned Mr. Keating as to what the Dead Poets Society was, which was written in small print next to the barely recognizable picture of him.

He began to explain, going into elaborate and poetical detail about the apparent meetings. Curious smiles crept onto their faces as they listened to the description, and Francis could almost sense something clicking into place. When he finished, he stood up and handed the book back to Neil. He jokingly requested the book be burned, and turned away, continuing with his prior occupation.

With Neil's usual intensity, he suggested they have a meeting of their own. They all looked around eagerly at each other for a moment, toying nervously with the idea, when the bell rang. They walked quickly towards the building, and Francis spoke up.

"I think that sounds wonderful," She said, looking around, her finger habitually tracing around her mouth to ensure there was no smudged lipstick. "But I'm going the other way. So you guys come and get me if you find the nerve," she said, smirking. "Don't worry, Todd knows where my room is." She laughed, and turned around and made her way down towards the small dock in the lake.

Todd felt his cheek burn, and as Francis walked away, everyone looked at him questioningly except for Neil. They said nothing of it, however, as Neil roped everyone back into the matter at hand. Charlie was the second to agree to the meeting. They bantered with each other for a few moments as they frantically made their way to the building.

Francis stood at the edge of the dock, watching her reflection waver in the dark water. She sat down, and once again took her pen to her notebook. She wondered if there would be any meeting at all. She'd be curious to see if it would happen, and she ensured herself that it would be entertaining. Looking up every so often, she tried to draw the view before her. When she had finished her halfhearted attempt, she looked at it, dissatisfied with it, and stood up once more. She figured she had enough fresh air for now, and made her way back to her room.

Later that evening, after Mr. Nolan had gone to bed, Francis sat on the edge of her bed, still fully dressed, quietly listening to one of her records. She checked her watch, and realized it was getting late. She wondered if anyone would be coming to escort her to wherever it was that this meeting would be taking place. But she wasn't in a rush. Tomorrow was Saturday, and she didn't have any plans.

A few songs later, Francis heard a soft knock on her door. She stood up, brushed off her skirt, and opened the door. It was Todd, not to her surprise, dressed in a thick wool coat. He smiled tentatively.

"Well, are you here to escort me to this mystery destination?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," he said, letting out a meek chuckle. "You might want to put on a coat or something, though. It's colder than it was this afternoon…" He said, trailing off and looking down.

"Well, why don't you come in for a moment while I find my coat. I haven't used it since before I got here." Francis said, gesturing him inside.

Todd looked up at once, and his eyes widened.

Francis laughed. "No need to be frightened. I won't make you dance with me again."

Todd let out a little nervous laugh and followed her into the room. It seemed smaller than it did yesterday. Francis took the record off the record player, and silently looked through her closet. She pulled out a black petticoat and began to put it on. After it was secured on her, she knelt down and sifted through the bottom of the closet. She pulled out a pair of work boots.

"I know, they're not the prettiest looking things, but in Washington it used to get so incredibly mucky and wet it'd be a shame not to have a pair," She said as she brought them to her bedside, sitting down and beginning to put them on.

Todd stood there in silence while Francis laced them up. When she stood up, she hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Todd, how do you feel about what I told you yesterday? Because I've been thinking about that a lot, and it kind of makes me feel a little sick knowing that someone else knows what happened to me. Nothing against you, that is."

Todd thought for a second, feeling uncomfortable with the subject. "Well, I think it's terrible, and I'm awfully sorry, really…But you don't have to worry. I won't tell anybody." He blankly searched for words, finally blurting something out. "I still think you're great." He flinched a bit, and Francis smiled.

"Well, I appreciate it. I really do trust you, Todd, but you see, I'm a pretty secretive person. Not really a good thing, but I'm sure you can sympathize. Thanks, though. I think you're great, too." Francis said, smiling and pulling Todd out of the room. She switched off the light and they exited the room, as Francis pulled the door shut behind them.

"Now where to?" She whispered into the darkness.

"Well," Todd said. "I think they should be waiting outside, near the back."

Francis nodded, and Todd could see the outline of her head move up and down as she started to make her way down the hall. She walked carefully, trying to avoid making any sound.

At last they found themselves outside, joining the others.

"Well I'm glad you guys didn't get lost in there," Charlie said, dryly. "You sure took your sweet time, though." He added, looking them over.

"I had to find my suitable clothing," Francis said, gesturing to her coat and somewhat comical boots.

Charlie laughed. "Nice boots, there. They look like Bozo the Clown got into farming."

Francis laughed loudly, and was promptly hushed.

"Well come on," Neil said, ushering them to follow him into the darkness.

They found their way eventually, as they jogged slightly through the woods, winding their way around trees and hills, searching the landscape until they found the cave.

Everyone slid inside, shining their flashlight around the interior. Eventually, they all sat down, except Neil, who stood, shinning his flashlight onto a decrepit looking book. They listened to him as he reconvened the Society by reading the front page, his voice articulate and clear.

The night moved quickly after that, everyone taking their turn reading from the old book. They had given up on a fire, and as everyone was doing their reading, Francis looked up through the small opening in the cave's roof. She could see the stars shimmering faintly through thin and wispy night clouds. And she felt that for a moment, she didn't need to worry. Not about her past, her present, or her future. She felt content with the voices of her new friends, and took their company as soothing as warm blanket. It was funny, she thought, how if only for a fleeting moment your life can almost feel perfect. Like the universe lined up for a hot second, just as a reminder of the elusive beauty life contains, if only you have the chance to find it.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So so sorry for the absence. Sure has been awhile. But thanks to everyone who keeps reading this. I really appreciate you all, and, uh, you know, review, etc. **

After the night had been spent, and Francis had slept away the pleasant excitement from the night before, she awoke in her room, thin fall sunlight streaming in through the glass. Francis sat up, and looked at her watched she set next to her bed. It was early still, only 8:26. Ever since the school year had started, Francis had become accustomed to waking up at such times. At home on the weekends, she would still be lying bed long after the sun was in the sky. Nonetheless, she got herself out of bed and began to get herself dressed and ready.

Later that day, it was arranged that she would finally be given the verdict on her further schooling. Francis felt both nervous and relieved at the same time. Why she was relieved was obvious; she couldn't handle the system here. It was beyond her in many ways, for Welton covered things far beyond the schools systems of her shanty logging town's. However, Francis couldn't really determine exactly why she was nervous. She really had nothing to feel nervous about. But Francis had felt some kind of nagging anxiety ever since her parents had died. She could never really figure out the source of the feeling, but it always felt like her heart was beating on a thread.

Once Francis had put herself together, she checked her watch again. 9:48. She let out a sigh, and sat on her made bed. For a moment, her thoughts trailed back to the previous night. A dreamy smile made it's way across her face as she remembered the way the poetry had sounded against the cool and moist walls of the cave, and the way the stars hung against the inky sky. Francis decided swiftly that it was one of the fondest things to have happened to her in recent times. It was nice to have something pleasant happen to her again.

Francis got up, and looked out her window. The sun was shinning through the trees, and the sky was as cloudless as it had been the day before. She marveled at the beauty of New England, and even though it wasn't nearly as gorgeous as the mysterious fog, looming mountains, and emerald landscape of her home, it certainly was lovely in it's own fashion.

Finally, Francis discarded the notion of waiting, and went down to her grandfather's office. She figured he'd be up anyways, as is customary of both his age and occupation. Taking a few steps down the hall, she quickly arrived at his door and gave three short knocks and stepped inside. Mr. Nolan looked up, surprised for a moment, and then his usual graveness slumped back over his tired, yet sharp, face.

"Francis. I wasn't expecting you this early. Well, anyway, you might as well sit down. We have some things to go over, don't we?" Francis nodded and took a seat in front of him. Inside, she bristled at the fact that she was treated almost more like a student than she was his own granddaughter.

"I've decided that it would be beneficial for you to attend the near by public school for the remainder of your education. They have a curriculum that is more similar, although still more advanced, to your old school. Besides, you'll be more comfortable and familiar with how the school works. Does that sound suitable?"

Francis internally groaned at the thought of attending public school, but she knew it was far more suitable than Welton. At least she'd have a chance of passing her classes. Anyway, she could make it. She was almost 18. Then she'd be out for good.

"Yeah, that'll do. It's not far, right?"

"No, not at all. Of course, it's a little further than you'd be able to walk everyday. Especially once it gets cold. I'll provide you with a bike for now, but then afterwards we'll see." Mr. Noland continued to look at her a steely, business-like stare. She did not falter.

"Alright. I'll do it. I'll start on Monday, won't I?" Francis asked, her fingers tapping impatiently on the arms of the chair.

"Indeed. I've done all the paper work and whatnot, and I've obtained a schedule for you. Here you are," he said, handing her a well folded piece of paper. "Any questions?"

Francis glanced over the schedule sloppily. "Nope. It looks fine."

Mr. Nolan nodded. "Alright. You are dismissed. I'll talk to you later this evening."

They exchanged a few moments of cold silence, and as Francis stood up to leave, her skirt got caught on the arm of the chair. Her face turned hot with embarrassment as she unlatched it. She collected herself and walked to the door, and just as she was about to exit, she heard a voice from behind her.

"I wouldn't get too hot-headed if I where you, Francis. Watch your step, young lady."

Francis did not respond or turn her head, but rather paused as a way of acknowledgement. She did not want to give him the satisfaction. She walked out of the door just as casually as she had came in.

Briefly, she went to her room, but only to toss her schedule on her bed. She didn't want to be cooped up in the stuffy building any more. Even though there was a certain coziness to the Welton building, like the soothing dark colors and the wooden smell, it kind of started to smother you if you stayed cooped up too long. Anyways, Francis decided it was only natural to try and seize these last moments of her weekend, and eventually, her breaks from school. This was it though, she thought. This was the last break from school until the unfathomable drop into real life. Not quite the scholar, she figured she could make it on her own someplace far from the stern gaze of her grandfather.

Francis made her way down the creaky hallway and down the stairs, not even bothering to look in the direction of her grandfather's office. Not to say Francis wasn't grateful for her grandfather's assistance. If not for him, who knows where Francis would have been. For all she knew, she could have had to of waste away in some decrepit orphanage in Seattle, waiting for her 18th birthday to grace her. But at any rate, she felt no need to speak with him at the moment. She had plans.

Well, not really official plans. More like a spark of an idea that she had while placing her schedule on her bed. While looking outside of her window, the sooty fall clouds that had begun to creep through the sky beckoned to her. She had been struck with the desire to see Todd. She didn't really know exactly why, but she suspected it was because of the calming sense of comfort she had found in him while dancing lazily with him a few nights prior. Aside for a brief moment yesterday, she hadn't had any adequate time for explaining or conversing.

Therefore, as Francis found her way through the boy's dorms, she felt a twinge of thrill pulse through her. She didn't bother returning any of the gawks that a few of the boy's who were gathered there gave her as she strolled through their territory. Some of them, the ones she didn't have classes with, probably didn't even know she went to Welton yet, if they hadn't heard the electrifying rumors, that is.

She approached Neil and Todds door and checked her slender wrist watch. It was still early for Francis, only 10:03, although not necessarily for them. She figured they'd be in their room still, and she gave a few light taps on the door. After a brief pause, she heard footsteps shuffling towards the door, and then finally opening it a crack. Neil peeked through the doorframe, wrapped in a blanket, his face slightly twisted in surprise.

"Oh, hey Francis! Uh, I wasn't expecting you to visit or anything, but you can come in if you want."

"Do I have to make a reservation any time I want to see any of you?" she said with a smirk. "Anyway, I'd like to come and visit, however I was wondering if I could see Todd. Is he in here?"

Neil's face became altogether more surprised and playfully curious as he nodded. "Yeah, sure he's in here." Neil craned his neck around. "Hey, Francis wants to see you,"

There was no response, and Francis gently moved Neil out of the door frame and opened the door. Todd was seated on his bed with a notebook, suddenly looking like a deer in headlights.

"Get your shoes on, pal. We're going out."

...

Finally, Francis was able to usher Todd out of his room, and he reluctantly followed Francis outside.

"Where are we going, Francis?" Todd asked, trying to adjust the hem of his sweater.

Francis laughed as she pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. She put one in her mouth and turned to Todd as she held out the pack as an offering. He looked at her and shook his head.

"What? You Don't smoke? That's a first. I can't remember the last time I met someone who didn't smoke."

"Well, it's not necessarily that. I just…" he looked at the pack again, sighed, and took one. Francis lit them both with a practiced elegance.

"I thought so. Every one in New England smokes, right? It was like that in Washington, too, but not to look classy. People there were doing it because there was nothing better to do. Besides, it's kind of a lumberjack thing."

Todd nodded, and let the smoke silently filled his lungs. His vision blurred and he became dizzy for a second, and he realized that he hadn't smoked since he left home.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going yet?"

Francis shook her head. "You'll see soon enough. Being surprised is half the fun, right? I mean, what could be more fun than being surprised? I could be taking you out for sodas, I could be taking you to that nifty record store I went to the other day, I could be taking you to the grocery store… who knows?"

Todd chuckled a little, and let out a small cough.

"Lightweight, huh?" Said Francis, grinning. "That's okay, I guess. You see, smoking actually benefits my singing. Makes it sound more… raspy, I guess, but also more… uh, wholesome. No, maybe comforting. I don't know. It just makes it sound nicer. Anyway, what do you like to do, Todd?"

Todd was silent for a few moments before responding. They had finally left the Welton grounds, and Todd guessed they were headed towards town. They weren't more than fifteen minutes away, if Todd had to guess. He tapped some of the ash from his cigarette.

"Well, I don't know. I do like to read, I suppose. And I like…" his voice trailed off as he thought.

"Tell me something really interesting," Francis prodded.

Todd swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "Hm. Well, I like winter a lot… um, I like it when it's snowing at night. And it's really quite, and the moon reflects on the snow and there's this light in the sky. And I like just, I don't know, standing there, I guess."

Francis let out a hearty laugh. "Sorry for laughing. Actually, I totally understand what you mean. I like that too. When I used to come up here for Christmas, I always used to sneak out and roll around in the snow and try to walk on the lake, if the ice was thick enough."

They were both silent for awhile, yet it didn't feel forced. The conversation had just gently receded naturally. They looked around, as the vibrant trees swayed against the huge mass of concrete sky. Francis adjusted her turtle neck, tugging it slightly away from her throat. For some reason, she felt perfectly at ease, her shoe soles scuffing along the pavement.

Not much later, Francis and Todd found them outside of town. Todd's curiosity turned into confusion as Francis stopped in front of an old cathedral-like catholic church.

"Is this where you wanted to take me?" Todd asked tentatively. He couldn't remember Francis ever saying she was religious, and her behavior certainly didn't suggest it.

Francis laughed and nodded. "For some reason, these old churches are really comforting to me. I think it's part of the church's plan. Lull you in with soothing songs and sleepy masses. It's like pulling you into a dream."

Todd thought this statement over for a second, and found himself being pulled inside by Francis. She held her finger over her mouth, signaling for the already mute Todd to be quite. As they entered, Francis splashed holy water on herself and Todd, crossing herself. Todd stifled a laugh and followed suit.

Francis led Todd to a pew in the back, and she slid in all the way down the far end. The church was barely lit, aside from a few dim lights and some candles. They were silent for sometime. It felt almost inappropriate to talk. Finally, Francis broke the silence in a barely audible whisper.

"You know, the meeting the other day was really nice. I haven't had that much fun in a long time."

Todd nodded in a agreement.

"Why didn't you want to read anything?" Francis asked, cocking her head slightly to the side.

Todd blushed and shrugged. "I don't know. I don't feel comfortable doing stuff like that." He paused for a moment. "I don't know, sometimes it feels like people wouldn't really even hear me, anyway."

Francis nodded, and her eyes became alarmingly earnest. "Don't worry, I hear you."

She reached out slightly, and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. Her hand was cold, yet pulsing with a strange vividness. Todd tensed, but found himself paralyzed. He started to open his mouth, only to find all his words get caught in his mouth.

A hint of a smirk played across Francis' lips. She moved closer to Todd, her nose almost touching his. The nicotine of their breaths mingled together for a moment before either one of them moved. Finally, Francis closed the gap between them, wrapping a second arm around his back. Todd, woefully unfamiliar with the gesture, was unable to do anything for a few seconds and froze. Yet, melting under the warmth of Francis' sticky lips, and gave in.

The smell of incense and wood hung in the air as a reminder of the holiness of the room, and Todd suspected that if God was watching them, well, even he would have pity on the poor souls.


End file.
